The Promise Of The Future
by sumsumlovesyou
Summary: Jester's disillusionment and discovery, learning that there may be more to life and a way for him to finally take back some control.


Disclaimer: I don't own it. I just play with it. I've never written in this fandom and I rarely use this site when I publish. But sometimes, you just have to get the plot out of your head! Unbeta'd. Written in a hurry. I may continue it, I may not. This is just where I'm at today with it..

He long envied his friend, Jane, and her adventures with Dragon. The two of them disappearing on day long trips to outlying areas only to arrive with a new treasure or story. He longed for a chance to wear the chain and plate of a true knight. His sword would point to glory as the men rode into battle. His small stature all but guaranteed that he would never do the work of larger, more masculine men such as Sir Ivan or Sir Theodore. Sitting along the castle wall, watching the trainings; this was as close as he would ever get to something much more than the station he was given. Nothing for himself, nothing he was in control of...

Alas, that was a dream that was long ago denied. From the day his father told him of the King's decision to make him a part of the court, his fate was sealed. There would be no other title he would take and no other station he would work. He no longer had a name, but a title. He was to serve the King in all capacities asked of him. He was property of the court and was to spend his life working to please others. A song, a joke, a merry dance, his work did entail some training and novelty to keep his mind active. He spent many days scouring for new ideas and hours committing it to a scroll for as not to forget. His first days as Jester had him full of fear and worry. Afraid he wouldn't be as fun or pleasing, afraid of a reprimand, both verbal and physical, and afraid of feeling alone in a castle so large with no kin or friend by his side.

There is a much darker side to being a male of slender stature in the court. Delicate features and soft hands, his mere appearance was what had swayed the King to bring him to the castle. Entertain the court by day while evenings were generally spent in the service of the King's private chambers. Of course, no one spoke of such things, yet it was generally accepted and many eyes were blind to the injustice of it. Imagine his own shock when he was first brought to his Majesty's bedroom following a flawless performance for a visiting diplomat. He thought perhaps the King wished to give praise or orders for a second performance.

The first touches, the pain of their connection, and his cries that fell on deaf ears burned into his memories. He was much younger then and wholly unprepared for what his duties entailed. The next morning, he awoke back in his own small accommodations, far on the other side of the castle. He ached for much of the day, but hid his tears from any attendants that he encountered. No performances were expected of him for awhile, and he was ever thankful for such kindness. Of course, it would not be a one time occurrence. The Queen may have been quite lovely and clearly capable of siring him two rather spirited children, but her presence was of mere duty and show. The King's true tastes ran rather masculine.

They developed a rapport, the King and he. It was not possible to spend such intimate time together and not have some affinity grow. As with time, he began to feel rather possessive of his time with the King. A man of such power needing his, and only his, service, and it left Jester often feeling powerful himself. At times, even his language loosened in their moments, and he spoke more freely than ever before. Things he had always wanted to say or ask, he could, albeit only when well timed, as a few swift beatings taught him that lesson right quick. A man following the pinnacle of pleasure is often times more loose lipped and pleasant, and he took advantage of the King is that state whenever he could. As long as he had something to gain from the coupling, Jester could overlook the situation all together, just as the rest of the court did. Besides, no one ever talked about the Queen's private arrangements with Sir Ivan, otherwise his foul temper should have long seen him drawn and quartered, but that was neither here nor there.

He had been at the castle only a short time when he was first introduced to Jane, the daughter of the lady in waiting. He watched her struggle against the role and he admired her strength to go against what was expected and her bravery in the face of a dangerous situation. There was a twinge of jealousy when the King allowed her to become a knight in training, for he had given her that armour, HIS armour. His armour made her dreams come true, but never his own. They were fast friends, though. It was so lovely to finally have someone that he could truly talk to and trust with his honor. He loved her, regardless of his jealousy of her freedom and valor, he loved her fiercely and dearly.

By becoming friends with Jane, he was also introduced to a host of castle staff that he had never been introduced to before. Being the King's pampered pet, many did not wish to associate with him. He didn't know if it was jealousy, hatred of the King, or annoyance that made people turn away from him so. Jane's friends were a bit resistant at first. He thought he was to receive a fist to the face upon first meeting Gunther. A poorly timed joke, and at Gunther's expense, earned him a snarling face and an angry stance. While he braced for the impact, he heard deep chuckling that was positively music to his ears. Lo and behold, Smithy thought his joke was hilarious. Rake looked rather lost, but that was a normal expression on his face.

Ah, but Smithy, with his blonde locks and his thick calloused hands; Jester longed for those hands on his person. He always caught himself being more obnoxious and loud in his presence. It was a desperate grab for a attention, and probably didn't earn him any affection, but he didn't care. Everything about the man was delightful. Oh, and the time he came and auditioned for the chance to sing for the King in his place? He thought he was going to simply faint from the way his heart was practically beating out of his chest. Yes, the song was absolutely atrocious and there was no possible way he could allow him to sing before the King. But the man had tried, and tried for no other reason than to help him. So honorable. So handsome.

He was not blind, though. He saw the glances Jane gave Smithy at times. It wasn't saying much, as he had also caught Jane watching Gunther and even Sir Theodore with a similar expression. Perhaps she was just curious, as he had never actually seen her coupled with anyone nor had anyone made any attempts at courting her. Privately, he tried to get her to speak on such matters, but she always stopped him with a simple 'I have not time for courtship when I am in training. When I am a knight, then I will look for more.' Did women not wish to make babies and have weddings? Jane was a special specimen, more of a man than most of the Knights she trained with. She was fierce and strong and if she would make any connection, it would be dealt with swiftly and maturely.

It really came as no surprise the day Jester caught Jane with Sir Theodore in the stables. He couldn't quite say why he had gone in there, as he did not attend to the horses nor was he seeking out one for travel. Exploring, that was most likely it, or else he wouldn't have been so far down by the tack room. He didn't actually go all the way into the room, but took a moment to peer within upon hearing the sounds of their coupling. Jane was lying upon the work table, without garment, legs curled behind the elder knight. Bries to his ankles, he took Jane, again and again, with more vigor than Jester truly thought him capable of. Their cries of pleasure and intimacy left him feeling a bit empty as he quickly exited the stables.

He had yet to experience such pleasure as being close with one he felt affection for, by his choice alone. A mutual connection experience, based solely on affinity for each other. Of course Jane would be afforded this luxury, as she, through strong will, always got whatever she was determined to have. Pepper and Rake were allowed this. Goodness knows that Gunther did, many times, and with many ladies. But why not he? Why was his station in life both prestigious yet so restricting?

Many day of contemplation changed nothing. He still longed for something more meanwhile Jane had a quickness to her step and seemed more at ease in her own skin, a learned ability that comes from the love of the body when sharing it with another. The King still called him to his chambers, but he could feel himself more detached from their times together. What was obvious to him, the King didn't seem to notice. There had been some clashing with a Northeastern kingdom, so his mind was also somewhere else. He was much more content to get in, release his seed, and be off to sleep in a short amount of time; the stress of being King obviously wearing him down. It left Jester much time to let his mind wander and to think of what could be a more fulfilling experience.

He started to spend more time around Smithy, watching him weld, construct, and work. Dusty and dirty, he loved watching the sweat run down the neck of the man's neck in tiny rivulets. He longed to place his tongue upon him, and strip him of his heavy apron, making short work of his trousers. If Smithy suspected Jester's true reasons for lingering in his presence, he never let on, only seemed to enjoy the company. After the first few visits, Jester started bringing along food and drink to curry favor. He told jokes, made light conversation, and on one rare occasion, did a small dance to make light of a situation after Smithy had found he needed to work long into the night to finish a very large order for the court.

The more time spent, the more at peace he felt. Even if he couldn't have him in the way he wished, at least he would have some part of the man. Jane would join them on rare occasion, as well as a few of the others, but it was very clear that while they were welcome, this was their time together. As friends. Something privately just their own.

Smithy was not a man of many words. It wasn't out of lack of intelligence, but more a lack of need to use so many words to express his emotions. However, he always seemed to enjoy listen to those that did rather enjoy the sound of their own voices. Jester tender to prattle on, and Smithy seemed to receive every word spoken. He would nod his head every so often and just when Jester was positive that he was no longer listening, there would be a well timed inquiry in regards to the matter of discussion,

Smithy's eyes and his body language were so expressive that he could be easily read without speaking. It was also very easy to tell when he wished someone to no longer be present. Even if that person might be Jester.

He thought he had been making such progress until he found himself on the receiving end of Smithy's shunning. 'How dare you put your tools on my throne! You know this where I do my hardest work, sitting and mocking you.' He yelled out upon entry, knocking the two random metal rods off of the small wooden stool where he maintained his normal perch. It was purely in jest, and he had said nastier, more sarcastic things long before, yet always received a laugh. There was no response, simply a back to him. The first crackled, and the hammer continued it's steady beat.

'Do you hear me or had the pounding of your obnoxious hammer finally made unable to?' Smithy started to turn around, Jester prepared his biggest smile, only to be hit with a turbulently angry set of brows, mouth in a line, squinted eyes, and dark blue and violet bruising along the entire side of his face, into his neck and décolletage.

'Out. Now.' It was low and full of simmering rage.

Jester was too confused and upset not to comply, and all but ran out of the workshop to the safety of his own quarters. He did not know what had happened to Smithy, what he had done personally, and whether he was brave enough to venture back. He wept of mixed emotions and a heavy heart. Near supper, he ventured out again, hoping to avoid him even in passing. He did, however, run into Jane on her way to find sustenance. She sensed immediately that all was not well and inquired about him.

Before he got out much more than the word 'Smithy,' she placed her hand towards him in order to silence him. There was a look of sympathy in her eyes as she explained that Smithy's master was a rather violent man when he took to the mead. Smithy works very hard, but should his Master find something out of line, or step, or merely doesn't like the words he uses, it is known. She placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled him in for a long hug. While close, she whispered that perhaps what her closest friends truly needed was each other to find solace and peace. Releasing him, she hurried off to supper, turning to give him a wink and a wave,

It was sometimes baffling how Jane seemed to understand deeper matters of the heart for something so strong and brave. She no doubt knew, without words ever even having been spoken, Jester's desire. Even though she may have had an excellent point, Jester was not one to go where unwanted, still feeling that fear and rejection. He barely could handle the thought of potential pain to heart or limb for venturing to close.

He let a week pass before even allowing himself the idea of a visit. He was not one to be brave. He was not Jane. He missed his newfound friendship, and he desperately wanted to make sure Smithy was okay, but he couldn't do it. Fortunately, the King had kept him busy with events, balls, and private performances. His detachment was becoming more apparent, as the King stopped mid coitus to ask Jester if he was well. He apologized profusely and assured him that he was, indeed, well. He feigned sadness over some tale he had heard during his morning meal that was weighing heavy on his mind. The King promised to help him forget such folly, and continued their lovemaking with intense vigor and enthusiasm. It helped, but not keep his mind from wandering. The heart wants what the heart wants. Jester had sang enough odes to know it were true.

Finally, after too much time has passed, he knew he needed to see him again. He summoned all the courage he thought he was capable of, and with lantern in hand, went to the workshop late one evening. The castle was beginning to night time calm, royalty long in their beds, Knights on guard, and the potential for unwanted interruptions was low. He knew Smithy would be working, as he always did work late into the night. The rhythmic banging of the hammer was sweet to his ears, and he pulled open the heavy workshop door as quietly as possible.

There was a glance in his direction, but Smithy resumed his hammering. He was beginning a broadsword, of that Jester was sure. Likely one for a private purchase rather than mandate of the court, but the detail being placed upon it. His stool still sat in the corner as it always had, clear of all tools. Hands shaking, he made his way to his perch, and sat down without so much as a word. Every so often, Smithy would look up at him. Their eyes would meet, then one or both would quickly look away. He stayed for what seemed like hours, just watching, waiting, being a presence in the company of a man that he would give anything to have again, in whatever way he would be allowed.

Somewhere in the early morning hours, the hammering and the metal clanking stopped. Jester had started to doze in and out, slumped over the corner of the work bench. He startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder, jolting awake, and finding him face to face with Smithy.

'I am done now.' His eyes were large, and lovely, and he looked very amused and something.

His hat. His hat must have slipped off in his sleep, leaving him with probably the absolute worst looking hair. He fumbled to place it back atop his head. 'Oh, yes. I didn't even realize. I am sorry.'

A large hand reached out and stopped him. 'No.' Smithy placed the hat on the work table and proceeded to run his fingers through Jester's hair, petting it down. 'No, I like you better this way.' The hand continued it's smoothing and then slid to a rest at the base of his neck, cradling his head.

He truly thought his heart would burst upon such close contact. 'Smithy, I-'

'Erik.'

Oh. Jester had called him by his station name for so long that he had forgotten that they had names beyond their service. Even in his fantasies, he had called him Smithy. 'Erik. Yes, I... Devon. My name is Devon.'

He was rewarded with the warmest and most beautiful smile. 'Come.' The older blonde slipped his hand into Jester's and led him from the stool.

Now, Jester could easily map out all the details of that night, write it in an ode or gossip with a friend. How he swooned at the tenderness shown to him. How he memorized every beautiful freckle on Erik's body. How he begged for release when his pleasure seen to before that of another. Or how, much later, when Erik entered him for the first time, he wept with happiness. His heart was so full of emotions. He'd never had such pleasure or felt so complete in all of his life. When the first light of dawn peeked in through the small window, painting soft yellows against their skin, Jester regretfully slipped from the bed and gathered up his garments. He tried to be quiet as he knew the other man to often be a late riser.

'Must you?' The sweet, sleepy voice was a siren song, weakening his resolve to get back to his quarters and start his duties before the King awoke. Turning, he was gifted with the sight of all the tanned freckled skin and the most lovely smile to brighten his entire world.

He dropped his hat and shirt to the floor and closed the distance between he and the bed. Reaching out, he place his hand onto the older man's cheek. 'I must, but believe that there is no place that I would rather find myself than here with you. However, I must attend to my duties before court.' The frown he received in response was almost to much to bear. 'I shall return at dusk, King permitting. If I cannot, I will send word to you and return the soonest I am allowed.'

'Then I shall see you quite soon. I bid you a good day, Devon.' Erik out to draw him in for a tender kiss. Honey sweet, it took everything within him to finally pull away and leave for his chambers.

It was hard to hold back the smile that fought to show on his face for the entirety of the day. He was sure that all the castle could see the difference, and even the King commented that the Jester seemed to be feeling a bit more like himself. He thanked his side for being so caring in regards to his people, and assured him that he, in fact, was feeling much more like himself.

He set himself to talk to work very hard and complete every task laid before him for the day,

He only hoped he could get away for even just one more night to wrap himself in the arms of his beloved.


End file.
